


The worst timeline

by Rona23



Series: Merlin´s  magic [51]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canonical Character Death, Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Dark Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hatred, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It Gets Worse, Magic Revealed, Major Character Injury, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Parallel Universes, Past Character Death, Post-Battle of Camlann (Merlin), Post-Canon, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), alternate time line, fixing things by making them worse, the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rona23/pseuds/Rona23
Summary: After years of waiting for Arthur's return and magic finally being legal, Merlin gets the chance to see his king again.In another timeline. Where Arthur lived. And Merlin died to save him.The problem: This Arthur doesn't know about Merlin's magic.It gets worse.
Relationships: Gaius & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin´s  magic [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588378
Comments: 33
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is angsty af. Just as a warning.  
> No, I don't know where this came from.  
> You're welcome :)

'Arthur would have been 50 by now.”, Merlin thinks, as he stares at Gaius's freshly dug grave.  
Gaius, the old physician. He had been well on his way to turn hundred.  
But there was no surprise, no bravado in his death. It just happened, as death often comes in life.  
It's more predictable than most people believe.  
And Gaius's life had been a long and a well lived one. 

Merlin hadn't counted the years since Arthur died. He couldn't even tell you the year he died.  
Because he had decided to keep the memory of the living Arthur alive. Not the dying one. That meant, counting his birthdays, not the days he wasn't there anymore. Though, he would admit, he still knew the exact route he chose to get Arthur to the lake of Avalon. And it didn't help that his death- and birthday happened to fall on the same day.

Instead, Merlin had also forgotten his own birthday. That was a day he hadn't even celebrated when he was still in Ealdor. It just wasn't a thing then. So he kind of... forgot when it was.  
Arthur's however...  
He celebrated it every year. He remembered the exact day and the exact rituals Arthur followed each year.  
Merlin even took the time to grief, that Arthur usually spend thinking about his mom. Who had died during childbirth. During Arthur's birth. Something Arthur had no control over, and yet blamed himself for.

But Merlin grieved his friend. Not his mother. He was thankful for her sacrifice, despite everything it caused. 

Merlin had long left Camelot, after the battle of Camlann. He send letters to Gwen and the knights sometimes. But he couldn't stand being in a home that had lost it's most important member.  
Because not Camelot was Merlin's home, he realized after months of being alone. Arthur was. 

Merlin wondered, who had lifted Gaius's body here.  
Probably Percival. His letter had been the first to arrive that told him the news of Gaius's passing.  
Percival was the physically strongest one of the knights.  
Ironically, he was not referred to as “strength” by the magical beings that loved to annoy Merlin in the small hut he lived in.  
It was the coal hut he had used to call the home of Dragoon. And that he had found during the Dorocha attack. Lancelot and him had slept there for a night, finding the owner of the house cold and lifeless from the touch of the Dorocha.  
Ironically, Percival saw the true strength of Camelot die. Gwaine must have thought he failed them all, when he gave Morgana Arthur's location. But he hadn't.  
He'd lead Morgana to Merlin. Which gave Merlin the opportunity to finally kill her with Arthur's sword.  
'You've brought peace at last.', Arthur had said.  
'I haven't. You did.', Merlin had wanted to say. Now he regretted never getting to that. 

Merlin shook his head. After all these years, non of those memories felt any lighter. None of his burdens any easier. 

Magic may be legal now – thanks to Gwen – but Merlin felt strange using it.  
It may be a habit to do his chores by hand, but Merlin rather watched his own kin finally live in peace and without fear, rather than participating in his own magical freedom himself.  
A freedom that Arthur had given him, by accepting him. 

But Merlin had reached a point, where he'd rather not be accepted for who he was, if that meant Arthur was still alive.  
It was such a strong feeling, that it even out weight the grief he was supposed to feel for Gaius. 

And of course... that's when the world skipped a beat. Literally. 

Merlin blinked. This was strange. The forest, the trees, everything had felt alive before. But now? Everything halted and grayed in a way Merlin had never seen before.  
Another skip and Merlin felt like he was stumbling.  
The magic – Merlin realized with a start – it was sucked into some kind of hole...

That didn't make sense. There couldn't just be a hole in the universe.  
And if there was, why on earth would it suck out the magic that was rooted in this world?

Something was breathing his name. “Help.”, Merlin heard and felt himself shatter at the sound.  
That was no person, no creature, nothing had such a croaked voice.  
Especially not one that spoke the tongue of the old religion.  
It felt like a brother was talking to him. Begging him for something. Yet Merlin didn't know what it was they wanted. 

Merlin breathed heavily. He was shaking and had fallen to the ground.  
“What?”, he asked, completely flabbergasted by the sudden situation. 

“Please, Emrys. I'm dying.”

Merlin's eyes sprang wide open at those words. Who was this... this thing?  
His scarf and jacket rattled in the wind. He felt like this strange hole was grabbing for him.  
As if it was asking for something only Merlin had.  
The thing felt weirdly familiar as well. 

“What are you?”

It was multiple voiced that answered. “We are magic. Magic of another world. While your Albion was saved, ours suffers. You have done your purpose here.  
We need you to do the same for us.”

“My purpose?”

“You served Arthur Pendragon to bring magic back. Only you can guide him back on the right path.”

Merlin blinked. Then it struck him. “You're.... you're saying there is an Arthur in your world, without a Merlin?”

The crack in the universe kept silent for a moment. Hesitant in their words.  
“This Arthur is no friend of magic.”

Merlin stared at the crack. This.... this parallel universe had an Arthur there. One that didn't know about the magic. About Merlin's role in it all.  
Who cared what happened to the other Merlin? There was his chance to see Arthur again. Like hell Merlin wouldn't take it.  
“I'll talk some sense into him.” That was a lie. Merlin didn't care. He didn't care if he had to spend another ten years in absolute secrecy. He just... wanted his friend back. 

“Thank you, Emrys.”

Merlin swallowed and then sighed. What else was there that kept him here in Camelot?  
He turned around one moment, looking at the grave stone of his old mentor and father figure.  
“Don't worry Gaius. I'll be careful.”, then he looked at the sky above.  
“Bye Arthur.”  
He said this casually, as he always did, whenever he went anywhere. Though he knew, he would never stop talking to Arthur in his mind.  
He was always there. Somewhere. If he just looked for a reminder.  
Ironic. How, before Merlin stepped into the crack between worlds, he said goodbye to the one person he didn't leave behind. 

\------------------------------------------------

The other world. 

“Arthur, please. This needs to stop.”, Gwen was tired of this conversation.  
Each day, another man, woman or child was sentenced to death by Arthur's hand. It was worse than what Uther would have done.  
It was worse than any person could have ever predicted Arthur to do. The people who had the potential to be so much better than their predecessor, could also turn out so much worse.  
They should have learned their lesson with Morgana. But they hadn't.

“It is my duty as king of Camelot to eradicate this world from the evil that is magic.  
The crops are dying, Gwen. My people are starving. Someone is to blame, and I will find the sorcerer who cursed us.”  
Arthur hadn't smiled in at least ten years. Or was it longer?  
Arthur felt like centuries had passed. Yet it felt like yesterday, when he held Merlin's dead body in his arms. 

He closed his eyes. Merlin. Morgana had killed him. With a wave of magic that was meant for Arthur. But of course, Merlin, the stupid overly scared idiot, had jumped in front of Arthur and taken the blow. Like the brave coward he was.  
Merlin died because of the magic blast. He never got up again. 

Arthur could hardly recall killing Morgana and Mordred for it. But he remembered every detail of Merlin's face. His eyes wide and glassy. Staring empty at the sky.  
Arthur remembers screaming. And it was a weird memory, because it still echoed distantly in his mind. Like it had been the world who screamed, not himself. Like he had only been witness to it. Yet he knew it was him who had screamed that day. 

Magic. Of course it had been magic. Merlin had advised him against it so many times. Had warned him of sorcerers and bandits and trolls and.... even Mordred. And Agravaine and Morgana.  
Arthur had never believed him. Only ever Merlin's small moments of doubt.  
Because Arthur had wanted to believe in magic so much.  
Of course, Merlin's loyalty and his earnest fight against magic were his downfall. Of course, it was magic that killed him.  
That's all magic ever did. It takes and it takes and it takes and it takes. (1)  
Arthur had lost so much to magic. Merlin, stupidly courageous Merlin, he had been his last tie to sanity.  
Even Gwen wasn't able to fill the hole that Merlin's death ripped into his soul.

“Arthur, this isn't a simple execution. This is slaughter! You are wiping down an entire town, because someone MENTIONED there was a sorcerer there. You don't even know if that's true!  
Arthur look at me. This isn't you!”, Gwen had tears in her eyes.  
She had been fighting with Arthur fever since Merlin died. And if she hadn't managed to save a few individuals from his wrath by staying here, she would have left him for good a long time ago.  
Now she lived in her own room separate from Arthur's room. 

Don't get her wrong. She loved Arthur. But this was no longer the man she married. This was a second Uther. This was worse than Uther. 

“I will set that village on fire myself.”, Arthur gritted through his teeth. Because it was his responsibility to get the world rid of magic for good.  
And if he had to do the dirty work himself, so be it. He wouldn't want it any other way. 

He walked passed her. It was debatable if he had even heard her at all. 

His eyes were directed stern ahead. He looked old. The wrinkles on his face were deeper than they had any right to be.  
But the fire in them was still strong. Just as strong as they had been when Merlin died.  
This wasn't his way of seeking revenge on magic, don't get him wrong.  
No. He had to destroy what threatened everyone he ever loved. He had to make sure the few people who remained wouldn't fall prey to it.  
He had to protect them. If that meant destroying half the kingdom, so be it. 

\----------------------------------------

Merlin opened his eyes to a world that wasn't just empty of magic. It was basically void. 

Merlin hissed in a deep breath, as he felt the world rip at his own magic. Trying to suck it all up, to somehow balance out what had been taken from it. 

The forest he looked at, could hardly be called a forest at all. Everything was brown, as if burned. Everything was dry.

Merlin frowned. 'No.', the thought.  
This couldn't be. His eyes widened and his hands fell to his side. Everything felt.... dead.  
Usually, the world radiated a comforting hum of magic. A small wave of it always surrounded him. No matter how weak. And that voice had grown stronger and more familiar over the years. Especially, since magic was legalized again.  
This was ….

Someone had taken this magic and struck it down. There was no presence in the air.  
Merlin sunk on his knees, as he tried to take everything in.  
The world ached under his weight and Merlin felt tears prickling at his eyes.  
What on earth happened here?

Merlin breathed heavily and shook his head, before directing his hands towards the forest floor.  
Then, for the first time in ten years, he actually let out his magic. Not to create anything.  
But to feed it to the starved world.  
Eagerly, like dry sand, the earth drank from it. There was no direct spell and Merlin wasn't sure how much magic he had in him to give.  
All he knew was, that he gave everything he could, while the pain of the slaughtered magic of this world occupied his mind.  
He could feel every death and every painful cry. 

Merlin wasn't really thinking about using his magic. He just felt that he was needed and so he served. That's just who Merlin was. A servant. That's all he ever was. Be it to Arthur or his own magic, didn't matter.  
As long as it felt right. And right now, keeping his magic hidden, like he had before, felt so so wrong.

This was not what he had expected. 

A wave of anger flooded through him, as the earth beneath him sighed a small cry of relieve. That was all he could do without draining himself.  
With determination, he directed his eyes in the direction of where he knew Camelot resided. 

“Arthur Pendragon, you better have a very good explanation for this.”, he mumbled to himself.  
And yet.... there was still that small glint of excitement upon being able to see his friend again. Even if technically, this Arthur was not his friend at all.

\-----------------------------------------------

Merlin walked with slow steps towards Camelot. Not to waste time, not because he didn't want to see Arthur. But he was trying to send his magic into the ground beneath him.  
It took a lot of energy to regenerate after constantly using his magic. But the magic did hum under his fingers, after being abandoned and locked up for so long.  
Ever since the battle of Camlann... well. Let's just say Merlin blamed his magic for failing to save Arthur. 

Since Merlin had gotten his magic back in the crystal cave, he was the strongest sorcerer to ever walk the earth.  
Right now, he did his best to keep the land alive. Or … give life back to it.  
With each step, a little bit of color returned to the forest and the ground beneath him.  
It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start. 

So, Merlin went and walked and from afar, he suddenly saw men march towards a village not too far from Camelot.  
The knights held torches in their hands. Merlin could see the small fires from the hill he was standing on.  
He could also see small figures trying to escape from the village.  
And there, right at the front of the army, Merlin could sense Excalibur. Was Arthur with them?

Merlin frowned. What were the knights of Camelot doing in that village? There was no monster or magical creature there to fight..... why would they even go there?

Then Merlin blinked and stared ahead in horror. No. No way.  
They threw the torches at the houses.  
They just set the entire village to flames. 

“NO.”, Merlin whisper yelled. The fire was reflecting in his eyes. With only a moments hesitation, he sprinted down the way.  
Only light steps of his feet fed the ground with magic, but his emotions made it stronger. 

More of his magic sipped into the world around him and it frustrated him how eagerly and hungry this world was starving for him.  
It frustrated him, because now he couldn't use his own power correctly.  
Without care of his own inability to breathe, he finally arrived at the village. He heard crying and sobs and screams and somewhere nearby, he heard the steps of metallic feet and yells from familiar voices. Familiar knights. 

Merlin's anger flared. Couldn't these idiots think for themselves?  
His gritted his teeth and growled a pained whine as he saw children running for their lives. What was this?  
Even Uther's witch hunts sounded more reasonable than this! THIS was MADNESS!

Merlin stood in the center of it all. Flames around him, people fleeing and trying to escape. Some where struck down, according to the stabbing sounds of lance's being impaled into flesh and the screams that followed them. This was a slaughter.  
Tears steamed down his face, as Merlin found himself unable to say anything. Or do anything. He sank to his knees. Who.... ordered this?  
Whose idea was this?

And then, finally, Arthur walked forward. His head was covered from his helmet, and he was leading the havoc of the slaughter that was happening here.  
Then, Arthur saw him and stopped.  
Slowly, he took off his helmet, as if unsure if he could trust his eyes. 

“Merlin?”, Arthur asked, eyes wide. The recognition in the man's eyes caused terror and relief to fight in Merlin's own.  
He stared at his king. 

The voice of the universe echoing in his mind. “This Arthur is no friend of magic.”

“Merlin, is that you? This is a miracle. You can't be...” The wide grin of hope and pain in Arthur's eyes caught Merlin off guard. 

Merlin.... too shocked by the amount of new information he had just gotten, yet still somehow relieved to see Arthur again, couldn't run away, when Arthur swept him up in a bright hug.  
Warm and welcoming, despite all the carnage this man was just responsible for. 

“Merlin?”

“Gwaine.”, Merlin mouthed and barely managed to turn his head around. There he stood, right next to Percival. Gwaine too, came forward and joined the hug. 

“No no no.”, Merlin muttered and tried to get away. 

“Merlin, you're alive.”, there was another voice. It was Leon and behind him a stable exploded from the fire. 

“I can't believe you're alive. How did you...”, Arthur began to ask, but was interrupted.

“Sire, we need to get out of the village, or else we will burn as well.”, Leon reminded them and Arthur, who was basically crying from happiness at the moment, nodded, before grabbing Merlin's arm and dragging him in the direction of Camelot's castle. The few remaining villagers shot Merlin a pained look of shock and horror.  
Those who could at least. 

\----------------------------------------

“Merlin, it's so good to see you. Where on earth have you been?”, Arthur was beaming at his friend, as they made camp, just outside the walls of Camelot. “NEVER, leave me again.”  
Merlin stared at the walls that had once been his home. The walls were crumbling already. It was as drained from magic as the rest of the world was. 

“I-”, Merlin swallowed. 

“You will be relieved to hear that I almost eradicated all magic from this land! My father would be so proud. But I did this for you. Morgana, she -”

Merlin's head snapped around. His face horror stricken and Arthur's face fell.  
“Merlin?”

“You killed people because of me?”, he asked, eyes wide and lips quivering and his voice cracked.  
What on earth....

“They have magic. Morgana killed you with magic. I mean, you died in my arms. I can't even fathom how you're here .... I-”, Arthur was shaking his head in confusion and relief.  
“If magic didn't exist, she would have never killed you. I cannot let Camelot's citizens or Gwen or anyone I care about fall prey to magic again. I have to destroy it, before it destroys us. I though you would understand.”

Merlin felt bile rising up in his chest.  
He looked away in mortification and horror. 

“Merlin, you don't seem to be feeling well. Are you okay?”

Merlin turned back to him, realizing with a start, that they were all staring at him oddly. Like HIS reaction was the strange one. 

“No.”, he didn't find it in himself to lie. 

Arthur looked up, more concerned than ever. “Why, what's wrong?”

“Everything.”, he wanted to say. And almost did.  
“When I.... this world....”, Merlin had trouble breathing. Then he swallowed down his pride. 

“Arthur, I'm not your Merlin.”

The silence that stretched was deafening now. 

Arthur looked at him strangely. Then he frowned, as if considering something. Suddenly, his hand went for the hilt of his sword, as if in contemplation.  
“Are you saying, you're a changeling?” (2) He didn't seem entirely convinced. After all, why would a changeling confess to be one right of the bat?

Merlin frowned. Not even afraid of the sword directed at him. The sword... that was Excalibur, wasn't it?  
If Arthur had slain magic with that sword, it made sense that the damage on magic here was permanent.  
Kilgharrah had said it once. This sword in the hands of Uther would bring great evil.  
What Arthur was doing with it was beyond evil.

“No.”, Merlin shook his head.  
“I'm from a parallel universe. I'm from a timeline where I didn't die at Camlann.”, the words felt foreign on his tongue and he had trouble saying them. As he replayed his coming out to Arthur in his head.  
The Arthur in front of him had nothing of his Arthur's forgiveness and kindness. 

The Arthur in front of him froze. “A different timeline? How on earth did you – what happened?”

Merlin looked around his friends and decided that no.... this time, he wouldn't keep quiet.  
This was not his Arthur. This was not what Arthur would have done. Merlin refused to believe it.  
“In my timeline I never went to Camlann to die at your side. I …. had other plans to save you.  
I was too late to protect you from Mordred's blade.  
You barely survived Camlann. You were mortally wounded and died, while I tried to carry you to the lake of Avalon.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, waiting for his reaction. 

Arthur had scars in his face. What they were from, Merlin wouldn't know and he didn't dare ask. This face was painted with years of a one sided war. 

“What lake?”

“I was told to find a magical creature there that could save you.”

Arthur's jaw dropped open. “You would have turned to magic to save me?”, he looked awed. Like that thought had never even crossed his mind.  
Like Arthur himself hadn't defied his own father times and times again and helped people of the magical kin, because he thought it to be the right thing. 

Merlin bit his lip. “The reason I'm here, is because this universe called for my help.  
Arthur, your world is dying.”

Arthur frowned. “No. I mean... we're cursed, yes. But that doesn't mean the world is....  
why would the universe call for YOUR help?”

“What do you think the difference is between this world and mine?”

Arthur blinked. “I don't know.”, he looked at the knights, as if they had an answer. They all shrugged or gave other signs of confusion and curiosity.

Merlin sighed a rattled breath and closed his eyes.  
“The night before Camlann, Morgana took something from me. And I had the choice, to either follow you into certain doom without it, or go to the crystal cave and get it back.” He opened his eyes, to stare into Arthur's confused frown again.  
“She took my magic from me, Arthur.” Merlin rose to his feet. Magic suddenly blazing in his eyes as he held his head up high. The time to confess was now.  
Merlin was long passed the point of staying quiet. He had done that for too long. And see what good that did in either of their worlds. 

Arthur was about to unsheathe his sword, but Merlin waved his hand and Excalibur responded to him.  
It flew out it's sheathe and embedded itself into the next rock. Like the day Arthur had pulled it out. 

The other knights now unsheathed their swords as they recognized an attack on their king. 

“You're not Merlin!”, Arthur hissed and blank fury was visible in his eyes all of a sudden. 

“I am. I am who I always was. But you are not the man I used to know.  
The Arthur I know would have never let this slaughter happen. Let alone lead it. Not even against magic. No matter how much he hated it. You were better than that.”

Arthur was shuddering from crushed hopes and believes, as Merlin's golden eyes flared up and the sky darkened.  
In a strong display of power, Merlin let it rain and the wind blaze behind him.  
Pure, unaltered magic rained from the sky and painted the world golden around them. 

“What on earth is -  
Knights! Kill him!”, Arthur recognized the golden rain for what it was and fear and hatred sparked in his eyes.

Merlin winced at those words, but didn't flinch, when his former friends stepped closer.  
For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and then he was standing mere feet behind Arthur. He had transported himself there. The knights and Arthur looked disorientated for a moment. Before they spotted him and turned around. 

“What is this treachery? What are you doing to my kingdom?”, Arthur screamed at him. 

Merlin bit back a remark. How was this man Arthur? Could grief really do such a horrible thing to such a good man?  
“I'm bringing magic back. As I promised to your world.”, Merlin said, eyes still golden. 

“NO!”, Arthur screamed and and then turned around to punch Merlin.  
Merlin let him. Because even now he couldn't find it in himself to hurt his king. Taking a full blow to the head, Merlin fell into the golden wet grass. His teeth clacked against his jaw and he could already feel a bruise forming on it, as the brunt of Arthur's punch hit him full force.  
It didn't stop the magic rain, however. As Arthur had probably hoped it would.

If anything, it made it worse. When Arthur's fist collided with his ripcage next, Merlin thought, he might as well let that happen too.  
When Merlin merely yelped and coughed as his rip cracked, but the rain never stopped, Arthur asked the next knight to give him a knife.  
And that knife was used to cut through Merlin's jacket into his skin. 

Blood was seeping out and Merlin almost laughed as the golden substance mixed with the ground around them.  
He grinned, as his eyes found Arthur's.  
Arthur looked deranged and shocked, as he saw the golden blood run through his finger.  
Where it drenched the ground, life returning into the grass. 

Arthur help up the knife a little higher, as the surprised but understanding knights watched with mixed feelings of horror.  
And then.... Arthur stopped himself from lashing out, as the first rain dropped on his own golden hair. 

He blinked and stared down at Merlin. Merlin was pale, his eyes ever so golden as the rain.  
And he was still smiling.  
“I won't lie to you anymore, Arthur. If you want to kill me, so be it.”

“How can you say that?”, Arthur was trembling in confusion. Because the rain wasn't hurting him. Quite the opposite. It cured his sore muscles.  
Made him feel relaxed. Healed. 

“How can you say you're better than magic? If you kill me, you do what you blamed magic for all those years.  
Is that what you want?”, Merlin asked back. His question was just as disbelieving as Arthur's and yet their tones were completely different. 

But Arthur wasn't answering. He half stood, half knelt there. His knife slowly sinking as his eyes widened.  
Merlin closed his eyes and felt the magic drumming against his ears. Around him, the gray grass greened.  
The trees behind him flourished, as they drank in the magic. 

He could feel the wild life returning already. He could feel the world inhale. And he knew the magic he hadn't used in years, the magic that had build up over the years, was now finally following it's true purpose. 

“What's happening.”, Arthur said quietly. His rage turning into fear, turning into wonder.  
The knights too, their hearts -hardened from years of silent war- let their swords sink.  
“It appears.... the curse is broken?”, Sir Leon said, turning to Arthur slowly. Eyes wider than even his lord's. 

“The war is over.”, Merlin said through cracked teeth. All eyes turned towards him.  
“I'm repairing the damage you created. Surrender now.”

He heaved in a deep breath and almost couldn't believe it, when Arthur and the knights stepped back from his bruised form.  
Merlin didn't sit up. He let his grief wash away with the rain. 

“This.... how... WHY would you break the curse?”, Arthur asked, holding his head as though he had a headache.  
“Why would a king curse his own land?”, Merlin asked back. 

Arthur grimaced and grabbed a sword from one of the knights to hold it against Merlin's neck again. Merlin didn't even blink. If the suggestion that this was Arthur's fault caused him this much distress, Arthur was too much like Uther.  
“You're no king!”, Arthur growled. “I will not let you have my throne.”

“I don't want the throne, you giant dollophead. YOU are the king. Why did YOU curse this land?”  
Arthur stared at him. The word 'dollophead' unarming him more than any other part of that sentence could ever have.  
“What did you call me?”

“You can't even see it, can you? The damage you've done? Magic is woven into fabric of this world. Killing it, means killing everything.  
I thought I would be fine coming here, going back to the way things were. Being a servant. Being your servant. Overlooked. Magic still outlawed, but you alive like before. Even if you hated me, I could have lived with that.  
But this....  
Do you hate me, Arthur?”

Arthur stepped back. Finally. His mouth half open, he looked at his knights for help. For answers. But for the first time in years, Arthur was uncertain of his decision to kill all magic. 

“But... But Morgana killed you. This cannot be. You can't be here. You can't like magic. You can't BE magic. You're Merlin!”

“Morgana merely blocked me from using my magic. But I said it before. I AM magic, Arthur. Always have been.  
You didn't avenge me. Nor did you protect anyone with your actions. You've doomed this world. And you've killed everything that remained from the other me.  
This is your doing.”

Merlin didn't care. He had to tell Arthur the truth. He had to say it to his face, no matter how much it hurt to do so.  
No friendship warranted slaughter.  
“So many times I had wondered if it would have been better, if I had died in your stead. I thought, why him. Why not me? Now I realize why.”

Arthur dropped to his knees.  
“No.”, he whispered, as realization hit him.  
“Arthur.”, Merlin said and had tears in his eyes, as he said this. “I really wish-.”

There was a heavy pause between all of them. “I wish you had died.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, usually, when I read "Will there be another part", I'm like.... nah. I don't wanna.   
> But I got like.... a dozen of requests for this one.   
> And I had exactly two ideas how the story could go. I know there are more ways. But there were only two that interested me.   
> One was this. The other was a full blown war between Arthur and Merlin.   
> I'm still debating on writing an alternative version to this chapter. But don't get your hopes up.   
> Because wars take time. And I think that would be too long for me to write.   
> Anyway, here's a quick conclusion of the first half of the story :) I hope you're not too disappointed.

Arthur felt, like the entire world was deafening at those words.   
The scream he had let out all those years, upon seeing his best friend dead, grew louder in his head.   
Sometimes he forgot it was even there. Other times, like right now, it was so loud, he wondered, if he was there again.   
If he was screaming again.  
Yet, for once, because Merlin lay beaten in front of him, he could see and hear it clearly. He could imagine those glassy eyes. Mixed with that strange look the alive Merlin just send him.   
He looked tired and hurt. But not because of the bruises.

Only the numb sound of golden rain hitting the ground filled the air with vibration. And sound.   
And a relieving feeling washed over him. A feeling he didn't deserve.   
It was, as if the entire world was sighing. 

And then, Arthur took Merlin in, the way he lay there. Golden blood slipping from the wound Arthur had cut in his rip cage.   
Bruises forming on his jaw and between the cut clothes, he could see a faint glimpse of skin, where a similar bruise already started to form.   
And he could see tiny scars. The beginning of an old burn. It wasn't much. But Arthur didn't dare to imagine how many more scars were there.   
There was a story to that. A story Arthur didn't know about. And it felt like someone just smacked him up the head that he SHOULD know. That Merlin was his best friend and those scars were scary old and he SHOULD know what they were from. 

Arthur sank down on his knees. The rain dropped on his hair and his nose and filled him with a warm sensation. A healing one. It made no sense.

Arthur had caused the stat Merlin was in. And yet, this was Merlin's counter attack.

All these years he had grieved for his dead friend. All these years he had let fear control his actions, made him kill magic. His regrets for letting magic kill Merlin took over and made him in some way, seek revenge.   
His fear of letting this happen to yet another loved one fueled his rage . 

And now his friend told him he had returned and he was magic and everything Arthur had done had caused him harm.   
Arthur had tainted Merlin's memory.   
Arthur had just beat the hell out of him.   
Arthur's fault didn't lie in letting magic survive almost twenty years ago. Arthur's fault rooted in his indecision at the time.   
Arthur's fault rooted in the decision he made out of hatred after Merlin died. 

Arthur's world was dying and it was HIS fault and...  
Merlin, among everyone else, was blaming him. 

Arthur stared, at Merlin, the words “I wish you had died” echoing in his mind.   
“Why didn't I?”, Arthur had asked himself time and time again.   
It had been an ever reoccurring thought. “Why did it have to be Merlin?”, he had asked himself.   
“Why not me?”

And now he looked at the man, the sorcerer, the traitor, the man who had lied to him.   
Was it worth it?  
Following his father's wishes for a man like that? Not to get rid of him. But... for him? Because Arthur had loved him. Had cared for him. Had missed him every second and every day and all the time.  
Merlin.... had been everywhere in his absence. 

Now, he was supposedly right in front of him, and Arthur had never felt so alone. So abandoned.   
So betrayed.   
But not because Merlin had magic. Not even because of the lies. No, Arthur only had to look back at the burning city behind him, to realize why Merlin had kept quiet.   
It was because now Merlin was back. Now he dared to criticize him. He felt betrayed, because Merlin just.... pushed him away.

If he had been alive for so long in that other world, if Arthur had been dead so long in that other world, why hadn't he come sooner? Why did he let Arthur grief like that?  
Didn't Merlin care?  
What was this Merlin's world like, that even his best friend's death couldn't bring Merlin to search for him?  
As Arthur had in the destruction of magic. 

If only he had known that it was the cries of the magical community that reminded him of Merlin. It was his curse. Those cries were Merlin's cries. Because Merlin was magic. And though Arthur had needed to hear Merlin's voice – he never wanted to hear it like that.   
Why did he let that happen? HOW did he let that happen?  
He hadn't recognized Merlin's voice. But that just made it worse, didn't it? Did Arthur ever really know Merlin at all, if he couldn't even recognize him?  
If he didn't know those scars. 

All of this. Being abandoned, being pushed away. It was his own fault.

Arthur sank lower on his knees. 

And there was another thing. “Did I ever accept you?”, Arthur asked. His voice low. He needed to know. What he would have done, had he known.   
Even if his reaction spoke against everything he had done in those twenty years.   
And Merlin's eyes, which had been half closed before, opened wide. As though he had not expected the question. But he knew immediately what Arthur meant.   
And didn't that hurt too? Because Merlin hadn't changed and yet Arthur couldn't see him.   
Arthur had changed so much... and Merlin already knew what he was thinking.

“Not.... at first.”, Merlin said and closed them again.   
Arthur's heart clenched. 

“To your credit, you only had two days to get over twenty years of hatred. You took it pretty well.”  
Merlin didn't look at him. As if he was talking to someone else. The tears that mangled with the blood and the golden rain around him spoke volumes about what kind of memory that was.   
“You told me I betrayed you. I don't know what exactly went on in your mind, I never had the chance to ask you.   
But... eventually you told me to never change.” Merlin hiccupped.   
“I tried my best not to. I'm so sorry.” He closed his eyes again. As if that didn't contradict everything Arthur had just thought.

For a moment Arthur wondered what Merlin meant. How had Merlin changed? He even noticed that Merlin hadn't really aged. Not as much as Arthur had.   
And the feeling of relieve was slowly fading. And for a moment it wasn't like the world was relieved to feel magic again, to be fed magic again.   
The magic itself was relieved to be let out. 

'Ah.', Arthur realized. It wasn't about magic. About using or not using it. Merlin looked regretful after what he said to Arthur. About wanting him dead.   
Maybe THAT was the change. 

Arthur stared at Merlin. He opened his mouth. He tried to say something. But he couldn't. Strangely enough, he wasn't part of this conversation.   
'Merlin didn't use magic until he came here.', that thought should be a theory. It should be a thought, a question even, that manifested in Arthur's mind.   
But it was a realization. It was a certainty. It was as clear and obvious as the existence of the sun above them. Even if it was hidden behind the magic clouds. 

Arthur couldn't attack Merlin again. He couldn't look him in the eyes either. And for the first time in forever, he felt like his friend was truly gone.   
Merlin was here and yet it was only to show him how dead HIS Merlin really was. 

He should kill this man.   
By all means, he shouldn't even listen to him. But here he was. Unable to hold the sword that wasn't the one Merlin gave him at the man himself.   
Unable to look at the magic around him that painted over the feeling of 'everywhere' that he used to see his friend.

Ironic. Magic used to be everywhere. Which meant, Merlin used to be everywhere. And Arthur had destroyed that memory. 

He never let go.   
The screams never stopped.   
And neither did the slaughter. Would Arthur have known he was slaughtering Merlin out there... had he still done it?  
He clenched his fists. Why..... why couldn't he be certain about that?

Why couldn't he be certain, he would have?  
Why couldn't he be certain that he'd never kill his friend?

Tears ran down his own face. He wanted to wipe them away, but he froze as he noticed the blood on his fingers again. Merlin's blood.   
Not HIS Merlin's blood, but it may as well have been.   
After all, Arthur could have bathed everyday in the blood he spilled. 

It's not like he didn't know what he was doing all these years. He had done so deliberately. Because the screams of his people echoed over his own screams in his head.   
And the nightmares from dying children painted over the nightmares about Merlin's glassy eyes. 

And Arthur realized, yet again with a start, that the slaughter wasn't just to protect his loved ones or to get revenge.   
It was to protect himself.   
He had killed Merlin's voice, when he should have ought to protect it.   
He had tainted the memories they shared. The legacy they created.   
But he couldn't stand it. So he destroyed it himself.

Merlin was right. It SHOULD have been Arthur who died. 

So, the tears fell down his face and he knew that his knights were witness to this. They hadn't seen him cry since the day Merlin died.   
The tears fell on his blood stained hands and washed it away. It was almost poetic, if it didn't feel so wrong. 

This was not something he could right again. A second purge... caused by Arthur. Much worse than the first. He could right that as much as Uther could have. Meaning, never.

“Sire?”, Leon walked forwards slowly. He stopped, when he saw Arthur flinch. 

Arthur didn't even need to look to them to know how each and every one of them was reacting.   
Of course, Leon was stepping forward to make sure he was fine. He had taken over the emotional support line, after Elyan had died.   
Elyan always knew what to say. Yet, he was another friend Arthur had lost to magic.   
Percival was probably uncertain how to react at all. His friendship in Gwaine was much more profound than any other connection between him an the knights had been.   
Gwaine however, was probably the most torn one.   
Gwaine, who had become a knight because he was friends with Merlin. Not Arthur.   
Gwaine, who had supported Arthur's decision, because he thought it was in Merlin's best interest.   
Gwaine, who had stood beside Arthur, because he knew, Merlin would have wanted him to. 

Now he met a Merlin, who just made extremely clear what he thought of their actions.   
Yes. Their actions. Gwaine had taken part in the slaughter as well. And it brought him to his knees as much as it did Arthur.   
They were pretty similar in that regard. 

But it was Arthur who bore the responsibility. It was still all Arthur's fault. 

So....what now?

Arthur finally saw that the curse he had tried to fight, was a consequence of his own actions.   
He had cursed his people for 20 years.   
He couldn't just turn around and change the laws now. He couldn't just go and say: “ah, yes, sorry, guys. I made a mistake that destroyed half the kingdom. Now, everyone who still has magic, come forth and be free. I'll allow it.   
Like hell anyone would believe that. Arthur wasn't sure he even trusted himself.  
But Arthur couldn't lead this kingdom like this anymore. Merlin was here. His reasons were destroyed.   
The best thing for this kingdom would be, if he just..... died. As Merlin said.   
But Arthur couldn't do that. 

All of this was his responsibility. He did this. He couldn't just run away. He couldn't just die.   
Who would judge him anyway? HE was the king.   
Arthur trembled where he knelt. 

He felt stuck. He couldn't move. Which direction was he supposed to turn?  
It was like every road lead to this point. There was no path left.   
And the worst part was. He couldn't even ask. Because if he asked Merlin what to do.... how cruel was that?  
To leave the future of a broken kingdom in the hands of the man Arthur did this for in the first place? A man who wanted him to do the exact opposite?

It was almost worse than leaving it in Arthur's hands. 

“Merlin”, Arthur closed his eyes and slipped off the seal that marked him king from his ring finger. It was easy. Considering all the blood that eased it's movement. 

“Sire.”, Gwaine gulped, as if trying to interfere.   
“Give this to Guinevere.”  
“Arthur?”, he asked again. 

Merlin's eyes turned towards him. Finally, he looked at Arthur. But there was nothing in his eyes. No complaint, no disappointment towards this particular action. No denial that this was the right choice.   
It was simple acceptance. And maybe that was as much proof as Arthur needed to know this was the right choice to make. 

“Tell her to take over. Tell her to look at the curse and what your magic has done to break it.  
She shall decide what to do next. She's the queen. She's always made better choices than me.  
I resign.”

Arthur let the ring fall into the grass before him. 

“You're running away.”

Arthur didn't deny it. How could he? He's already done the worst he could have done.   
He was a shameful king already. Why not run away as well?

“I will travel to the remains of the crystal cave in the valley of the fallen kings. If she has the heart to kill me, I'll be waiting.”

Merlin nodded. 

“Sire, NO!”, Leon suddenly said. Probably feeling just as conflicted as Arthur did. After all, he had followed his orders.   
“You cannot leave Camelot like that! Not NOW!”

“Leon, stop.”, Merlin interfered and looked at Arthur, as though he knew exactly what he was going through. As though his piercing blue.... no golden eyes.... could look right into Arthur's very soul.   
The very essence of his being. 

“He is right. He has to leave.”

Arthur closed his eyes. A long time ago, he would have thought, getting Merlin back would be a relief in itself. It would be a victory. A reason to celebrate.   
But he had never felt so defeated. 

“Leon, send Gwen my best wishes. I will stay with Arthur.”

Arthur looked up. And a cold wind washed over them all.   
“What?”, Leon asked confused. As if that was the last thing he had expected Merlin to say.   
And Arthur was thankful that Leon had asked, because he himself couldn't even open his mouth. 

Merlin just send him a look, as if this was a decision. There was no debate about this. Merlin was old enough to make his own decisions. And he was certainly wise enough to make the right ones.   
Who was Arthur to question him?

“I'll be coming with you, too!”, Gwaine suddenly said, but Merlin shook his head.   
“You are a knight of Camelot. Stay where they need you. Take responsibility for your actions.”

“And him? Why not Arthur?”

“He's the king.”, Merlin said, as if that explained everything. “He's already judging himself. And he's banned himself from Camelot. Coming back would be his death sentence. Am I right?”, Merlin looked at Arthur expectantly.   
Arthur looked down. He hadn't thought that far. That deep. In fact, he just wanted to leave. 

Gwaine didn't answer anymore.   
“Leave.”, Merlin finally said. And the knights stared at each other. Confused why they were suddenly listening to a sorcerer. A supposedly dead sorcerer. Why they left their king with him. Why they listened to his orders. Why their king listened to his orders. 

But they did. Albeit hesitantly, Leon picked up the bloody ring from the ground and wiped the golden substance off on his cape.   
He cleared his throat, as if to say something else. But he stopped himself. 

Merlin waved a hand at the castle. And a wave of magic slipped through the cracks of the walls and started repairing the damage.   
The knights turned to him one last time, before they left. 

Arthur stared at Merlin. Still stared, because truth be told, there was nothing else he could do anymore. 

“Why are you coming with me.” It wasn't as much a question as it was a fact.   
But Merlin treated it like a question.   
Honestly, it made no sense. If Merlin hadn't searched for Arthur until now, why would he abandon his own freedom and peace to be with him now?

“You were dead for twenty years, Arthur. You're not the Arthur I know. But you feel how I feel. Don't you?”

Arthur bit his lip. “You could have... come to this world sooner. Why didn't you?”

Merlin laughed. It was a concerning sound. “Do you really think, if I had known your world existed, I wouldn't have jumped at the opportunity in a heartbeat?”  
Arthur caught his breath. 

“I didn't know your universe existed, until it called for me. Because you had destroyed it.”

“So you came to fight me.”, Arthur said, already defeated. There was no point in fighting him. Did that disappoint Merlin?

“No. I came to do what I always have done. Protect you from the shadows. I didn't think it would turn out like this.”

“Why don't you kill me then.”  
Again, Merlin laughed. Arthur felt how his insides strained at trying to hold back more tears.   
Merlin should want to kill him now, right?  
“You already said, you wish I was dead.”

Merlin shook his head. Barely noticeable. “I said, I wish you had died. I don't want you dead.”

Arthur sighed. “That makes no sense.”

Merlin stayed quiet for a moment. “It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. Let's leave. I reckon, Gwen will be here any second, if we don't haste now. Come on. Help me up.”

Arthur hesitated for a moment, before he hesitantly reached out a hand. Merlin grabbed it and heaved himself up, until he stood before him wobbily.   
If it was from the pain or the magic exhaustion, Merlin couldn't tell. But it was clear what Arthur thought had caused this.   
And Arthur was quite hesitant to touch him too. 

“Just so you know. I could never hate you.”, Merlin said and looked up to Arthur.   
“Not even after this?”, Arthur asked. Feeling so so wrong. After all, his entire world was just flipped upside down. He was no longer the hero. He was the villain. Always had been. 

“Do you hate me for having magic?”, Merlin asked in return. 

“I hate myself for not knowing.”, Arthur responded. 

“Well. Then maybe there is hope for you yet. Let's go.”

And so they slowly began to walk. Merlin was basically lame in the way he walked. But there was no need to hurry. Arthur flinched at every sign of magic around them. That slowed them down as well.   
After all, the entire world around them was blooming under each of Merlin's steps. And though Merlin grew more and more tired, the intensity of it all never lessened. 

Arthur thought, he would never get used to this. To just.... watch the thing he ought to destroy be so lively around him. 

“You know I'm not your Arthur, right?”, Arthur asked at one point, when they finally made camp and Merlin had done everything as he had always done on hunts.   
He had made the fire, he made the food. He did everything they needed to be done to be able to rest.   
“You know, I'm not your Merlin, right?”, Merlin looked at him. 

It was a reasonable question. But it was also an answer. Because, yes, Arthur knew.   
He knew all too well what he had done to his own Merlin.   
And this Merlin didn't have the right to forgive him for that. This Merlin just wasn't the same. 

And Arthur realized that it probably felt the same for Merlin. 

It was like Arthur's world was a giant puzzle. And there was this one special piece that he had loved the most. And that he had somehow lost, because of how he carried it everywhere.   
He would never find it again, because he realized, he had accidentally burned it. 

And then one day, he found a puzzle that was exactly the way his own was. It was just missing more pieces. But it did have the one piece Arthur was missing.   
So Arthur bought the piece. Just the piece. Until he realized that the owner of this puzzle had always kept the puzzle in the light. And with time, the colors had faded.   
Arthur had a piece that was shaped perfectly. It fit into his puzzle well.   
But you could see the difference. You could still see it didn't belong, because this one piece was just.... not right.   
It fit. It may even fill the hole Arthur never thought could be filled again. But it wasn't right. It wasn't the right piece for this puzzle.  
It wasn't the same. And it never would be. 

And it was probably even worse, because Arthur had – in his rage – scratched the colors off of the rest of the puzzle. So now.... this new piece was the only one that wasn't like that.   
That wasn't so... broken and destroyed. 

Arthur knew they could never go back to how things were. But he also knew, like this, they weren't alone. They could carry on like this.   
Arthur might be hunted from now on. Merlin might have to travel the world to bring magic back and it was quite ironic that Arthur would follow him everywhere.   
And that they would stand side by side no matter what.  
They should want each other dead. But they could never hurt one another.   
Even though they could hardly bear each other to be alive either.

“This is.... the worst timeline.”, Arthur said one night. By all means, he thought Merlin was asleep.   
“It's not anymore.”  
Arthur scoffed. But Merlin was pretty quiet.   
“It could be worse.”, was all he said.

Arthur knew Merlin was referring to the twenty years they bared each other's death alone.   
And he thought, Merlin was probably right.   
At least now, they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Yes, that's a Hamilton reference. Death doesn't discriminate. It takes and it takes and it takes and it takes. I love that song.  
> (2) I love changelings, hence... my name on insta and wattpad lol


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